


A Useful Tool

by Kosho



Category: BioShock 1 & 2 (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Magic, Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Atlas (BioShock) is Not Frank Fontaine, Atlas (BioShock) is Real, Begging, Drunken Kissing, Eventual Smut, False Memories, French Kissing, Gay Male Character, Kissing, M/M, Modern Music, Musical References, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Plasmids (BioShock), Shameless Smut, Smut, Surprise Kissing, Tags Contain Spoilers, The Institute (Fallout), Used my modded radio station, WYK, Would You Kindly (BioShock), so I could have an excuse to use modern music
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:55:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28896237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kosho/pseuds/Kosho
Summary: Leander is left reeling after stumbling out of the vault alone, his husband dead for reasons he can’t understand, when a friendly voice acts as a lifeline to guide him.
Relationships: Sole Survivor/Atlas
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Couple o’ things:  
> •Leander is my canon male Sole, so it made sense to use him for this.  
> •My friend enabled me to write this, and it may be not great, first time writing anything to do with Bioshock.  
> •Didn’t tag pairings, but gonna be definitely at some point Leander and Atlas/Frank, and probably Gage because I’m trash 🥲.

Leander stumbled out of the vault, choking back tears, cold snaking in his lungs still. How much time had passed? How long ago were those terrifying events? 

No, focus. Start from the beginning. He had moved there not more than twelve years before. Military training in New York, came back from the war not too much worse the wear, a few scars. Met his husband. He was from Sanctuary, and Leander couldn’t resist trying to fix the lonely look he got when he was homesick. So they sold the small house, uprooted and moved to Massachusetts. Everything happy until that broadcast replayed in his mind. Codsworth’s urgent voice calling for them to come and see. The frantic race to the vault, thanks to his military service, the rep had told him. 

Then, nothing, until he thawed again in time to witness the murder of his husband. Frozen again, then thawed out once more to the unwelcome visage of Gerard’s lifeless corpse in front of him, bullet wound caked in crimson crystals where he bled out and he froze like that. 

“Hello? Hello?” An unexpected voice called out. 

Leander looked around, rising up on shaky legs, rubbing his eyes furiously in case someone was there. No point being witnessed at his lowest point. He was still a soldier in his heart, and weakness was not something shown so easily. He looked to his wrist, the pip-boy lighting up briefly as the voice spoke again. 

“Hello?” He finally answered back. 

“Can’t believe anyone made it out alive, saw the signal just now, and thought it was a mistake.” The voice said, quietly surprised. 

“Who is this?” He asked warily. 

“Name’s Atlas. Bad time to be wakin’ up, but I can help ya. Not too far off from a little town called Sanctuary Hills. Just down the path. Can at least get set up there for now. Would you kindly do that for me?” The man said. 

“I...yeah, I can manage.” Leander coughed. “Used to live here before...I...I have a place there, mighta survived…” 

“Good, good. Go there now, and we can talk a bit. See if I can help you out.” He said. 

Leander clutched his head, forcing himself to push through the lingering stiffness in muscles now aching as the chill finally began to seep out of him. The idea of what he might find was upsetting regardless of the outcome. Destroyed seemed most likely, devastating to think of all the memories that lie crumbled in the dust and debris. If it was still standing? A mausoleum to what had once been but was no longer, would never be again, really. 

He turned onto the empty, desolate street, pale blue eyes falling on his home, still mostly intact from the looks of it. How it managed to escape the fiery plumes and aftershocks, he couldn’t begin to imagine, but there it was. He sighed heavily, approaching it with all the caution of a first meeting with a potential enemy. He turned the handle, stepping over the threshold. He could still so clearly recall the last time he’d been in here. 

“Atlas...what now?” He asked. 

“Sure you been through a lot. If you’ve the shelter, why not rest up a bit. When you’re ready, I’ll explain. Things aren’t like they were then. Commonwealth is ran from the shadows now.” He said with a sigh. 

Leander was about to reply, but maybe he was right. A bit longer to catch his breath, a chance to get out of the vault suit that felt like a prison now, he’d throw it away after a chance to change. He slowly walked the short hall, frowning. He stood there in thought for a few moments, before he entered the bathroom, mirror was a bit cracked, toilet seat askew and tiles falling all over, but mostly okay. He tested the shower, almost unwilling to believe it still worked and had warm water. 

No idea how long he stood under the stream, lost in thoughts of better days and reeling in shock still. He washed dust and ash from his hair, scrubbed at bits of drying blood from his escape, minor cuts and a scrape or two, nothing of merit, but even just the contact of his hands brushing his own skin was somehow soothing. He eventually stepped out, turning off the water, dripping from head to toe on his way to their room. Not much in here still. Pair of slacks, a dress shirt and suspenders, but it was the most normal things had managed to be in a long time. Leander walked towards the bed, but turned at the last moment to go for the living room instead. The bed was off limits, he couldn’t handle that, not yet. He’d rather sleep on the now uneven couch than have to lay in that bed alone. 

“Is it...do I have time to rest?” He asked quietly. 

“Been resting all this time, but not well, not refreshed. Aye, might do you some good. Let me know when you’re awake.” Atlas agreed. 

“Might not want to rest too long. Dangerous here. More dangerous than it sounds like you remember.” 

Leander grimaced. If he wasn’t feeling completely exhausted already, he’d have not bothered. He already knew whatever dreams —or more likely nightmares, were waiting for him, and it wasn’t something he was keen on subjecting himself to. He grabbed the pillows and blanket off the bed, curling up in a sad heap on the now uneven couch, both relieved and disappointed that the bedding no longer smelled like Gerard but a vaguely generic sort of scent unthreatening enough to make him doze off easily. 

Outside the window, a bird perched, staring at him almost unnaturally. There were rumors they were little more than aerial cameras run by some shady corporation of some manner. The sort of thing most still viewed through a lens of skepticism. Shame they were right. This particular one had been  _ hijacked _ , but really, who was around to know that? Sanctuary was a two bit hole in the wall town, and right now, save for an old Mr. Handy,  _ his _ Mr. Handy, in fact, there wasn’t another soul to be found. No doubt his appearance in the commonwealth was about to draw attention from all over, a good thing Atlas was around on the comms to help lead him down the right path, no need for unsavory claws to hook into him, after all. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leander heads to Concord, with the goal of finding someone to point him in the direction of someone who might know about the Institute and how to get inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying my best to really blend the two into one, and I’m slowly accepting Leander is probably gonna have to do some shit he wouldn’t normally like.

Everything looked horrible. Understatement of the century, of course, but true nevertheless. He’d packed as many still decent things as he could carry, he wasn't going to stay around. 

“On the move already, boyo? Sun’s barely up.” Atlas commented. “I’ve got your back.” 

“Where are you?” Leander asked curiously. 

“You wanna know?” Atlas asked quietly. His tone changed. “I’ll tell you soon enough. I’m...in a place that’s not easy to reach, dangerous, but that might be too easy a word.” 

“I’m no stranger to dangerous places. I was in the war, seen a lot of good people die. Where I met my…” he trailed off. 

“Met your?” Atlas asked. 

“My husband. He’s gone now…” he sighed. “I watched him die and was helpless to do a damn thing about it.” 

“Might be as you can help me after all. Looking into a place called ‘The Institute’, I’ve hit a wall on how to get in, I’m trying to gather some information, bastard what runs it has the place hidden.” Atlas finally admitted. 

“Maybe I could find a way in? I’m not sure how, but it’s possible, right?” Leander wondered. 

“Maybe you could. Well...if that’s what you want to do…” Atlas said uncertainly. 

“It is. I’ve got nothing better to do and as of yet, no purpose, no reason to want to carry on. Helping you? That gives me a purpose.” 

“You’re a good man.” Atlas told him. “If you really want to help, there’s some signs of life just down the road from where you are. Would you kindly go check it out? Maybe someone there can point you to someone who might know  _ something. _ Wouldn’t trust ‘em beyond information though. People in this world ‘ave grown desperate. Nothin’ like it used to be.” 

Leander had weapons, grabbed what ammo he had stashed away with his old uniform, more ammo was preferable, but enough if there was trouble. On his way, he passed bugs the size of his head, the corpse of a two headed cow and other unsettling things. He never saw things like that before. 

“Everything has changed...can’t imagine what else is different.” He commented. 

“I looked at what records were available in that vault. Been about 210 years since you went in, lot has changed since. You’re gonna see some strange things, strange  _ people _ . Oh. Institute did get  _ one _ thing right anyway. Invented ways to improve the human condition. Then again half the shit that comes out o’ that place can hardly be called human. Looks identical, acts and talks like it. Don’t believe it. What they  _ do  _ have is all manner of useful tonics and upgrades you might find useful. You get the chance, grab ‘em. No more manufacturin’ ammo. What’s around now is all that’s left unless you know how to make your own. If you come across any, I’ll walk you through it. Until then...getting that info is what’s important.” Atlas explained at length. 

Down the road was Concord, he’d never personally been there, but he found his feet carrying him without recalling conscious thought to do so. Barely even reached the edge of the town before he felt his hand reaching for his gun. Around the time he wondered why, he heard shooting, yelling, and then he seen them. A bunch of people firing up at the balcony.

Leander ducked out of the way, peering briefly through the scope in an effort to pinpoint where they were, how many there were and who they were shooting at. There was a man just barely visible. Didn’t seem to be well armed and vastly outnumbered. He swept his tongue slowly over his lips, dry and chapped from the cryo and the dry air. One took a few thoughtless steps, right into his scope, and in the blink of an eye, the ground was splashed with blood and grey matter. The pistol was fine if he needed to move, to be quick, but sniping was something familiar. 

The sound alerted the others, searching for the source. He adjusted just a bit each time, picking them off one by one until the doorway was a clear path from where he was. The upper door opened and the man he saw waved his arms and called out for help, said he had settlers. Atlas said not to trust them beyond information, he knew more than he did, why wouldn’t he listen? 

“I’ll be up in a moment!” He shouted back. 

“Be careful, there’s more raiders inside!” The man warned. 

That in mind, he put away the rifle, rummaging through the effects of the downed raiders before going in, pocketing ammo, stimpacks and even a few new guns. He found a curious red liquid filled syringe, pocketing it safely until he had more of a chance to make inquiries. 

Opening the door, he heard shooting above, accidentally activating an automated targeting system he was unaware of, spotting two people up above. He was able to directly fire at their heads, vaguely wondering how to activate it intentionally. Unfamiliar with the layout, Leander searched for the way up to where they were, opting instead to ask about the syringe. There were chems in his time too, and he’d heard if not seen most of them, but this was unlike that. 

“Atlas?” Leander murmured. 

“Gonna make me blush, you saying my name like that boyo.” Atlas replied, tone too even to be anything but a joke. “What do you need?” 

“I found a syringe on a raider, filled with red liquid, do you know what that is?” He asked curiously. 

“You found one?” He asked. “That’s what you need. Those tonics and plasmids I mentioned? This will modify your genes. I won’t bore you with the science, but I promise you it works to your benefit to use it.” 

Leander took it out, looking it over in thought. Atlas hadn’t misdirected him so far, listening to him on this seemed alright. He took a slow, deep breath, burying it under his skin with a soft grunt. Pushing the plunger, he watched it disappear, tossing the empty syringe to the side. He expected it might not be noticeable, but his hands trembled violently, writhing and pulsing with electric energy, building too quickly. A panic attack? He’d had a few as a teenager, but none since, he staggered, clutching his brow, falling heavily through the partially broken floor, landing with a heavy crash. He glanced up, and then everything went dark. He barely registered Atlas calling to him, unable to do anything beyond lie on the floor, twitching and pulsing on his way to unconsciousness.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leander faces down a deathclaw, and finds a clue on how to go about teaching the Institute. Atlas agrees to meet in Diamond City.

Leander awoke in some dimly lit place, a computer mounted next to a secured door. His hands arced and glowed with sparks of electricity, distracting him for a moment. He didn’t know much about computers, but when he touched the door, there was a loud, heavy clunk, opening easily. There was an active fusion core in a generator. He knew the usefulness of these. Used to run the old power armor suits active during the war. No doubt there were still plenty, he had even seen a docking bay across from his house. Taking the core, he pocketed it, the silence almost too much. 

Retrieving his pistol from its holster, he went up the stairs, finding a way up higher. Footsteps on creaking stairs and broken sections of narrow pathways the only sound until he reached a door into a different hall, two raiders abandoning attempts to breach a door to instead turn attention onto him. He held his hand up, arcing shocks bridging the gap between himself and the raiders, watching the way they struggled to do anything. Leander thought it cheap, but an advantage was still an advantage. 

Taking aim, he dropped them easily, taking a moment to reload, just in case the man he assumed was hiding in the room was a danger. He heard the click of a lock and came face to face with the man he saw before, surrounded by a group of miserable looking people with no weapons. He had one, but the rest clearly weren’t prepared to resist. Could still be a trap, no sense lowering his guard completely. 

“Preston Garvey.” He introduced himself. “Man, am I glad to see you. Thought we were done for. Please, I have settlers in need of assistance and —“ 

Leander held up a hand. “Leander. What do you need to get out of here?” 

“There’s still raiders out there. If we had a fusion core, we could use the suit of power armor on the roof. There’s a minigun in a crashed vertibird up there. Sturges here says it looks like it’s in good shape. That just might be enough to clear the way. Mama Murphy there says there’s a town down the road.” He explained. 

Leander didn’t know why that struck him as odd. Maybe it was just that Sanctuary wasn’t really on most maps. He had no plans to stay, guess it didn’t matter much. Opting not to say anything one way or the other, he headed for the door brightly lit and labeled with an Exit sign. The woman he indicated as being Mama Murphy stopped him, her voice quiet and insightful.

“Somethin’ dangerous has got you, kid.” She said. “Somethin’s coming for you, but that ain’t nearly as bad as what already has you. Dark days ahead, looks like...I’m sorry.” 

That struck him as entirely suspicious, but he glided past the subject, about to simply walk away, when she continued. 

“I can’t help you in the ways I’d like to, but I can set you on the path you need. You want to find the Institute? Start in Diamond City, that’s what the Sight says anyway, I only hope it’s kinder to you than what you’ve already endured.” She sighed. 

“I...thank you. That helps.” He told her, nodding slowly.

Heading for the door again, he walked the short path up to the roof, thinking about the exchange. He popped the fusion core in the suit, opening the back and climbing in. Been a long time, but the muscle memory was still there, it seemed. 

“I’ve got a lead on the Institute. Diamond City.” Leander commented. 

“Diamond City? Yeah, I guess there might be someone who can at least point you in the right direction. Glad to see you’re alright. You went quiet so long I worried you died.” Atlas answered. 

“My hands are…” he trailed off. 

“A little gift. Your genetic code was rewritten, let’s you use power boosting goodies. Feels good, don’t it?” Atlas asked. 

“Yeah...haven’t felt this strong in years…” he admitted. 

“Just the beginning boyo. Finish what you’re doing and head for Diamond City, see if you can’t hunt down this lead.” Atlas instructed. 

“When do I get to put a face to a name?” Leander asked. 

There was a long silence, filled when he wrenched the minigun free, dropping raiders as he went. There were a lot more now than when he first went in, like cockroaches…

About to ask if he was alright, the ground trembled, manhole cover flying high in the air, a creature hulking well over him hunching to charge. Leander quickly turned, slipping into the nearest building. Too big to come in, the best and likely only shelter he’d get. Heart hammering with actual fear in his chest, he took aim, hoping he had enough ammo for this. Taking aim, he fired at it, hearing monstrous screeching and shrieking until the click of an empty gun was the only sound he could hear, staying put until he was sure the bullet hole ridden beast was truly dead. 

He tossed the empty gun aside, the power armor too far gone to want to drag with, he climbed out. Christ, he didn’t know what that thing was, but something that gigantic, fangs, claws and horns all promising to rip open power armor like wet paper. He held his chest, feeling his heart rate drop steadily. Preston and the others slowly drifted out, looking around warily. 

“I know you’re doing something important, and you haven’t led me astray yet, but I’m not used to taking the word of a faceless man…” he added finally. 

“There’s nothing the bastard running the Institute can’t see. Those birds? A way to watch everything going on out here. I’d be taking a considerable risk to come away now and meet you.” Atlas said. 

“I understand…” Leander said.

“Meet me in Diamond City. Got a place safe enough to stay for a bit. Be careful who sees you. I’ll send you the coordinates when you get there.” Atlas told him. 

“You don’t have to risk your safety, I couldn’t ask that.” Leander said. “It was foolish to ask.”

“The question was valid. I’ll meet you, as long as is safe to do so.” Atlas assured him. 

Really, it was as much to take a measure of him for himself. Had to see what 210 years of being a popsicle could do to a man. His curiosity was just a benefit. Old associate of his had given him a key to a house in the city, and the bastard in charge rarely turned his eye to the city now, barely invested in it. Perfect place to meet, really. Soon as he found the way in? Leander would wrap those ends up real pretty...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one place where canon is different. Such as not mentioning a wife and child, and actually meeting him ahead of normal.


	4. Chapter 4

Leander had taken chances, holing up in whatever dump he could when he simply had not one step more on him. Three days by then. Diamond City was closer with each one, Atlas his only company, save the radio stations he found. Odd how he didn’t seem to recall the songs playing. Couldn’t have been much new music after the bombs dropped, yet he’d seen more people. Clearly it wasn’t as though no one survived. 

Atlas hadn’t even been the only one to mention the Institute now, he’d walked past a few people convinced they’d stolen away a friend or a family member, though he hadn’t wanted to intrude to ask for more details. 

“Why would the Institute take people away?” He asked aloud.

“You ain’t heard yet? They say they steal away good folk in the middle of the night, replace them with a synth copy, identical in every way supposedly. Doubtful, I say. Ain’t no one  _ that _ close to perfect. Bound to be some detail wrong, however minor.” Atlas answered. 

Synth...no doubt some sort of shorthand for synthetic. Made sense, but also it didn’t. What was the point of replacing someone? A friend, family member, a lover, seemed like it would be instinct that something was wrong. If he hadn’t seen Gerard’s body for himself, he was certain he’d know a copy over the real thing. Atlas was oddly well informed. Perhaps that was it. They took someone from him and replaced them, maybe that was the reason he wanted to get in was to look, to find out one way or the other if the person was still alive or to find evidence of their death. 

If that was the case, there was no question he wanted to help him get inside. Leander paused midstep, looking at the closed gate. A woman stood outside arguing with someone presumably on the other side. Clearly they weren’t planning to open the gate. 

“Atlas…” he whispered quietly. He didn’t want to make it known he had eavesdropped on someone’s conversation. “Gate’s closed. I don’t think I’ll be able to get in.” 

“You will. I can hear the paper girl yelling, would you kindly cooperate with her? She can get ya in no doubt. It’s alright, I’m a tad delayed m’self. When you’re in though, I’ll send the coordinates, just get comfy, I’ll be there soon an’ you’ll get your face to go with the name.” Atlas assured him.

He hadn’t planned to meet this soon, true, but fostering trust took time, until now he had none, had to trust him without any obvious reason to. Now, there was time to wonder if he would keep his best interests at heart. Beneficial to give him plenty of reasons to believe he absolutely did. Exactly why his particular base here was the best choice to meet. Man must be starving for food that was familiar, not cooked bits of whatever meager offerings could be found, cooked roaches and radiated vegetables and fruit? Deserved better. Nice hot shower and good solid sleep in a warm bed still intact would put him in a fine mood, 

He could hear Piper conning the guard, the loud, heavy clunk of the gate lifting. She extended an invitation to drop by for an interview, before she was accosted and he came back. 

“I’m in. There’s a little marker on the map, that where I’m supposed to go?” He asked. 

“Key’s taped to the back of the inside of the mailbox. Let yourself in, I’ll be along. Would you kindly make yourself at home?” Atlas said distractedly. 

Without much thought, Leander bent, grabbing the key from its hiding spot, unlocking the door. He dropped the keys on a hook by the door, jacket deposited on a coat hook on the back of the door, taking a seat on the couch, palms flat on his thighs, hunched over himself. About as ‘at home’ as he usually got. The moment he sat down, his muscles relaxed and the exhaustion of the last week hit him full force. Unintentionally, he stretched out, falling asleep very nearly when his head hit the pillow. 

It was the smell of cooking food that woke him, who knew how long later, greeted by a warm, friendly half smile and that same voice he’d been guided by. 

“Have a good rest? Thought about wakin’ ya but I just couldn’t. Bet you haven’t had a decent rest since you left, right?” Atlas asked. Holding up a plate, he added. “Ain’t much, wasteland don’t have a lot to offer, but I made enough for both of us. Figured you were probably hungry too. Shower works, nice an’ hot. Welcome to use it. No rush on conversation, relax a bit first.” 

Leander rubbed the sleep from blurry eyes, idly raking his fingers through his hair, first ruffling it up, and then fixing it back into place. Wasn’t like he didn’t  _ want  _ to talk, only that the smell of actual food has his stomach making the most beastly noises. Taking a seat, he blinked in surprise. Coffee too, real, hot coffee. Felt like a dream. Gratitude, that was the feeling welling up in his chest. The world had changed so much it was difficult to recall the last time anyone did something even a minor fraction this kind. At his urging, he tried the food, taking his time, savoring the taste. 

Gerard was a terrible cook, bless him, but this? It was like heaven. He tried the coffee after a moment. Odd that it was exactly the way he liked it, the way he recalled it tasting. Atlas glanced up, as if trying to assess his thoughts without interrupting, satisfied he returned to his own plate, humming quietly to himself. 

Leander felt warmth rising in his cheeks. He rarely blushed, but something about the experience of enjoying a home cooked meal with a man he barely knew yet at least in the privacy of his own thoughts, found attractive, felt familiar enough to raise the faintest trace of butterflies. He hoped he didn’t see, last thing he needed was to make a fool of himself in front of the man serving literally as his guardian angel. He’d still have been kicking around Sanctuary lost and just trying to get by if not for this man. He was more than decent at survival skills, but that meant nothing when survival meant a whole different thing now. 

Atlas knew enough to recognize the question of whether or not he could trust him was still buzzing around his mind. He was certain he’d have that answer over the next few days. Few people here owed him a few favors by now. Helping to give him a little ‘revenge’ seemed like the perfect way to assure him whose side he was on. For a little while, it didn’t hurt to give him a little break. Running him ragged wasn’t going to help anyone, and without that way inside there was little enough to do. 

“Reminds me. Got a change of clean enough clothes, should more’r less fit you. Not that you’re not a damn sight, but I doubt you’re comfortable in all that mess.” He observed. 

Leander set down his cup, shaking himself from his thoughts. “Oh...thank you, can’t believe I took good clean clothes for granted. Not much out there…” 

“Not much of  _ anything  _ out there.” Atlas agreed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean obviously it’s gonna go differently, but I mean, different is sometimes good?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had originally decided to go with canon Atlas/Frank situation but I changed my mind. Anywho...

Leander pressed his brow to the wall of the shower, groaning in relief over the way it relieved sore, aching muscles, washing up an afterthought almost. He jumped slightly, snapping to attention when a shadow passed the thin shower curtain. He had a lifetime of shadows being something to worry about. 

Half asleep nights spent jolting awake at the sound of quiet footsteps, or of the shadows creeping by the tents, was it one of his or an enemy come to drag away someone in the middle of the night, the sound of screams choked on still air. 

The only difference was what those shadows could be, no longer the same enemy, ghouls, raiders, hell, even  _ farmers _ just trying to scrape by. 

Biting his lip in thought, he yanked the curtain open, unarmed but not ready to go down without a fight all the same. Atlas was on the other side, setting clothes on a small stand next to a towel. He turned, first meeting his eyes, before wandering down curiously. Leander swallowed hard, following his gaze down his own body, naked as the day he was born and dripping wet. Searching for something to say, he could think of nothing but stammered excuses. 

“I...thought you were…” he trailed off, realizing “I thought you were here to kill me.” Sounded strange considering he was the one intruding in his space. “S-sorry…” 

Atlas gave a low whistle, shaking his head. “Look good for a popsicle. Woulda liked to see you before that vault.” 

“Come on, pull the other one…” he mumbled 

frowning for just a moment, he turned the water off, red hair plastered to his face, the faintest trace of stubble gracing his chin. Never had to worry much about shaving, couldn’t grow a proper beard to save his life, but after the war, on Gerard’s praise, he let his hair grow out. Atlas dug through a box of what he had initially written off as junk, handing him a halfway decent hairbrush, 

“Thanks.” He said quietly. 

“No need. Right...for tonight at least, might be better just to stay in, there was a commotion in the middle’a town, guards want people to stay inside.” Atlas said offhandedly. 

“What happened, do you know?” He asked curiously. 

“Man went an’ shot his own brother. Claimed he had been replaced by one o’them institute synths. Wanted to spare you the serious talk for one night, but if you rather chat, fine.” Atlas explained. 

Leander stepped out of the bath, drying off before checking out the clothes he had been given, a soft knit sweater and some slacks. Not his usual, but they’d fit at least, keep him warm and dry, all the things he expected from clothes, at least. 

Atlas left the room, hand sweeping through short, dark hair. Leander stared at himself in the mirror, trying to recall more, so many gaps in his memory, things he attributed to being frozen underground for a couple hundred years. Everything was a challenge, his parents’ faces, when and where he met Gerard, or even when specifically he had enlisted. That much he was certain of. No one needed to force him to join, he slung a bag over his shoulder and left home with the goal of signing on, but the details were foggy.

Shaking out of his thoughts, he reached the door before he heard Atlas speaking quietly to someone. He hadn’t heard the door, but it sounded important. Rather than try to bother him just then, he turned the radio on quietly. Diamond City Radio, the man said. Must be somewhere in the city? 

Atlas sighed, occasionally glancing back to the bathroom to make sure Leander hadn’t come out just yet. 

“Thought I was supposed to stay off the radar, now you think I  _ shouldn’t _ ? What’s the point?” Atlas asked. 

“Old man is jumping at shadows, he’s more focused on the outside threats. Lot of factions trying to figure out how to get in so they can dismantle it, two bodies ain’t gonna seem strange to him. You know how this works,  _ make it happen _ .” The voice said. 

“Just how’m I gonna manage that. You don’t have to see the way he looks at ya…” Atlas muttered. 

“Hows about you take your spine an’ put it back where it belongs. Either you or me, an’ you know how that goes.” The man threatened. “‘Make. It. Happen.” 

“...” there was an uncomfortable silence for a time, and he sighed, finally answering. “Understood. It’ll be done.” 

“That’s what I wanted to hear. I paid good money for this, I expect to get what I paid for.” He said before the line went quiet. 

Atlas busied himself grabbing a few beers out of the fridge. Been that kind of day and no doubt he’d like a few as well. The music finally came to an end, Betty Hutton, not his favorite perhaps, but then again, those songs were over two hundred years out of date. 

“You done preening yet, boyo? Come sit with me.” Atlas called. 

Leander finally came out, leaning back in the seat he took, an arm slung over the back. Atlas slid a bottle to him, forcing a smile. 

“Thanks.” He said. Hesitating, he sighed. “Didn’t mean to hear anything, but is everything okay? I didn’t get you noticed, did I?” 

Trying to think on his feet, he grabbed a flyer off the top of a pile of old papers. 

“Gonna be a masquerade tomorrow night. Had someone going around dropping these off. Initially thought maybe it wasn’t a great idea, but if everyone has masks, it’s not like I couldn’t get out for a bit.” He improvised. “Do you like to dance?” 

Leander thought back. He honestly couldn’t recall many times, once to a military thing, and again at their wedding he was sure. “I’m sure I’m rusty, but I think I do.” 

Atlas grinned at him, holding out his hand. “Well then. You haven’t really seen the good this place still has to offer. Do a man the honor of cuttin’ a rug with him tomorrow night?” 

“You...you want to go dancin’ with me?” He asked curiously. “Isn’t that dangerous for you?” 

“You put yourself in danger since ya left the vault boyo. Trusted me to lead ya right and I’ve thought about it, need a couple o’ days to get some affairs in order an’ I’ll be coming with you. Institute is dangerous, and with me around, we’ll have extra eyes out for the security. Can I trust you lad?” He asked. 

Atlas had pulled just the right strings whether he realized it or not. Assigned him a familiar task he could handle. Watch out for someone. He’s spent his whole life watching out for other people. Of course he could. 

“I’ll keep you safe. I know you have my back, let me repay your kindness.” Leander swore. 

Kindness? He wasn’t quite sure the kind thing to do was to have him navigating the wasteland looking for a way into the worst kept secret in the commonwealth. Worst kept, but most heavily guarded. Had originally been an open door for any with a mind to create a paradise of sorts, but now? The old man was jumping at shadows, locked it all down and tossed the keys save for one or two secretive backups, had to be a way for synths to leave, made sense there had to be a way back in. 

“You never answered my original question.” Atlas observed. 

“I...yeah, I’ll go. If you can forgive the rust. Still shakin’ it off. Might step on your toes by accident.” He sighed. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leander wonders if it’s alright to feel the way he does. Piper has potential leads for him, and Atlas debates with himself during a moment of reflection.

Leander was sent on ahead, ostensibly to get a feel for the lay of the city. He wandered aimlessly, obsessively adjusting his cuffs, collar and mask. He felt out of place. Everyone here  _ looked _ out of place. Myrna frothed at everyone, the masks seemingly making her more paranoid. 

No idea who made these, not terrible, but not the stuff of the old movies either. His was...a fox? Golden fox? He turned his wrist, feeling dumb the moment he realized he couldn’t even imagine the last time he wore a watch. He took a seat, not far from where he was to meet Atlas anyway. 

Atlas...just thinking of the name had him confused. Scarcely been acquainted for a week. He’d blatantly crossed the wasteland to meet a man he barely knew. Feeling indebted hardly mattered really, point was he  _ helped  _ get him this far. It felt like guilt. Hung heavy in his gut and gnawed at nerves he once thought himself immune to. Atlas was gorgeous. There was no denying that shy of gouging his own eyes out. He  _ felt _ . Leander couldn’t imagine finishing that thought, to admit a man he barely knew was pulling some strings he forgot all about was unsettling. Gerard might well have passed yesterday the way it still hurt. No way he should be thinking of  _ anyone  _ in such a way.

Maybe less terrible if he wrote it off as more  _ primal _ urges. He could rationalize that. To need someone’s touch was  _ natural _ . Normal. Even before the bombs it had been a long time, Gerard up late every night for months working on cases, reading old legal standards and talking to him in passing, as he was getting up and his husband going to bed. That, coupled with the absurd notion of trying to survive in  _ nothing _ ? Normal was just fine. He’d admit that much to himself in the safety of his thoughts, but admitting he had so much as a physical attraction was too much for now. 

Sighing, his fingers twisted idly in his ponytail, grimacing. Standing up, he went inside, surprised at the number of people there. He had no idea Diamond City even  _ had  _ this many people. He saw Piper, face partially obscured in a stylized mask of the sun. Somehow that suited her. Bright girl, burnt the mayor’s ass regularly, apparently, and tried to bring truth out of the shadows? Perfect fit. She strode over to greet him, holding out a bottle of beer. 

Leander took it, letting her lead him to a quiet corner to chat for a bit. 

“How you holding’ up, Blue?” She asked. 

“Blue?” He wondered.

Sure, his eyes were blue, but that seemed too obvious. Him? His mother was Greek, and his father, Irish. Gerard used that to his advantage, called him ‘lion man’, the very meaning of his name. Was sort of cute, but powerful too, a name that chased away the more cowardly moments he spent sobbing into his pillow when he first came home. Visions of atrocities committed in the name of justice, the righteous thing to do. 

“You might not be wearing the suit, but this?” She paused, gesturing to the pip-boy on his wrist. “Vault issue. Even the scavengers don’t often show up with these. You’re a vault dweller. Explains that deer in the headlights look you had when I saw you at the gates. The suits, they’re blue. So...Blue.” 

Leander mulled it over for a bit. Yeah, he could live with that. 

“Would have been completely lost if I didn’t have help.” He admitted. “Everything is so different now. Not sure it’s not just a crazy dream. Wonder if I’ll ever wake up, back in my own bed.” 

“What is it you want out of this place?” Piper wondered. 

Almost without hesitation, he replied “I want in the Institute.” 

It didn’t even occur to him to distinguish that as being Atlas’ goal rather than his own. Never considered the reasons he might actually want in. He didn’t know enough about it. That thought zipped through his mind and was gone just as quickly. 

“Blue...that’s dangerous talk. The walls have ears in this city.” She warned him. Glancing around thoroughly, she added. “Got a friend who might be able to help you out. I’ll introduce you to him. Detective, the best. Nick Valentine. Nicky is somethin’ special, but I figure he’s probably not the craziest person you’ve seen so far. Point is, I think he can help. Nothin’ else, he could at least give you a direction.” 

“Of course, thank you. I —“ he began. 

Feeling a warm hand on his shoulder, he turned, fact to face with Atlas, or, more accurately, a wolf mask and two of the most enchanting blue eyes he’d ever seen. His breath caught briefly, caught by surprise. 

“Sorry lass, ‘fraid I’m gonna need to steal him from ya. Man owes me a dance if I’m not mistaken.” Atlas told Piper. 

Leander anxiously finished the last swallows of his beer, following his lead back towards the music. Atlas watched him for a few moments, looking almost like he felt uncomfortable in his own bones, hand kneading the back of his neck like it might provide answers. He grabbed a hand, dropping it lightly into place on his shoulder, reaching to take hold of his, Leander completely missing the way his own fingers betrayed him, slipping between his. A firm hand fell to place on his waist and he swallowed hard. It sent small tingles tearing through his veins, a feather light, much more pleasant shock than the plasmids coursing through him had been. 

Quiet and encouraging as Atlas had been over the radio, and as mild and pleasant as he had been making sure he felt comfortable, this was almost another side, perhaps a metaphorical glimpse under the mask. There was power in his gentle hold, restrained like he could hurt him if he didn’t consciously hold back. He led every step in a way that felt completely natural to follow, unable to look anywhere but into his eyes like he might find answers to questions he never thought to ask buried in them. 

Atlas never fully smiled. Always just a slight thing that touched the corners of his lips, or a lopsided grin, and in some ways it was hard not to see fragments of himself in him. He wasn’t above teasing, however. 

“See somethin’ you like boyo?” He asked. 

Leander felt his face grow warm, thankful for the low lighting, he was certain the thought of all the ways he could answer that particular question had him blushing. 

“Could be…” he answered vaguely. 

If nothing else, he didn’t want to sound _too_ _eager_. Rather come off neutral than admit the look in his eyes had his bones feeling like jelly. 

Atlas vaguely wondered in the back of his mind if it was fair. Trust was important, there were many ways to earn it, and sure, he could have had anything he wanted if only he’d use three little words, and while it was an interesting concept, he didn’t miss the look in his eyes. Taking away that choice wasn’t something he’d plan to do.  _ Him _ though...he absolutely would. He’d hurt him, break him down to nothing and will him to forget all the terrible things. Delight in that blank, empty look as he obeyed blindly. 

Did he realize it? Was some part of him conscious that he was making choices he might not normally? Did he question the reason or was he truly just blindly obedient with no sense of reality? Equal parts abhorrent and fascinating, really. Course the old man never realized what he lost either, or he’d have never let him slip his grasp. 

Atlas had to work not to frown visibly, looking at him to find him still following his lead, looking every bit lost in him, but trying not to be. Leander gasped quietly when he tipped back, nothing but the support of his hands keeping him from tipping over. Bringing him up slowly, he leaned close enough to feel the warmth of his breath against his lips, a brief flirtation with contact that he denied at the last moment. 

He wasn’t privy to the details of his life, only the barebones bullet points. He didn’t know the specifics, but something held him back. What was the story? A soldier out of time was a fine start, but there had to be more to it. 

“Whaddya say we sit for a bit. Have a drink or two and then get back to it? Moments like this don’t happen often. Best to enjoy it as long as you can.” Atlas suggested. 

“I...yeah. That sounds good.” Leander agreed. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Leander and Atlas have a heated moment after the dance that comes with some reflection.

Atlas slung Leander’s arm over his shoulder, guiding him back to the house, supporting his weight against his side while he unlocked the door. Vadim had ended the night asking their opinions of a new drink, one that left them both dizzy for a time before they had decided it was best to head back. 

Leander leaned against the wall, stepping out of his boots, eager to be free of the suit, he shed it like snakeskin, dropping pieces all over the floor before retrieving them and carefully setting them aside. He set his mask on the pile, prying at the length of ratty leather holding his hair back, letting out a pleased groan when at last he felt comfortable again. 

Turning around, Atlas was right there, and his heart briefly hammered in his chest. The man was simply too quiet, light on his feet. A ghost of sorts, just appearing wherever he had settled on. He chuckled quietly, a brief half-grin raising the corner of his mouth before dropping. 

“Did I miss something?” Leander asked. 

“You might want these.” He replied, holding out the clothes he had on before they changed for the dance. “Unless you prefer to sleep in just that.” 

He took the clothes, thinking it over. Maybe if it was the wrong instinct he could simply write it off as the drinks were a bit strong. He  _ was _ frozen for 200 years, it wasn’t a stretch to think it had an effect on him. 

The clothes fell from his hand and he reached for him, hands haphazardly resting half between his face and neck, holding him steady when he leaned in. His lips landed easily on his, soft at first, bare, intended to be brief until he opened up for him, fingers curling in his hair, the feel of his tongue intruding almost enough to make his knees want to buckle. Christ it really had been too long of a kiss like this had him needing more. 

Atlas slowly crowded him against the wall, a few inches taller, frame broader, like being swallowed up by him, drowning in him. It was something of a switch. Gerard was a bit shorter, more slender in comparison to him. He wondered briefly if this was normal, if what he had felt under him was the same way he felt here under Atlas. 

He slowly pulled away, and there was a sense of emptiness sweeping through him entirely, moments from trying to urge him back when he thought to let him speak. 

“Sure this’ alright boyo? I don’t pretend to know everything, but y’made it clear there was someone else before…” he asked. 

“There was…” he replied breathlessly. “I’m sure there always will be. I...I don’t know.” He fumbled over his thoughts, focusing on the look in his eyes. He didn’t expect anything, there was no disappointment, no pressure. Part of him wished there was, to take away the thoughts clouding his mind. Just for tonight at least, it would be nice to forget there was a past at all. “I’ve always had to choose, to make decisions. Maybe it’s wrong, but I don’t want that, not tonight.” 

“Might feel guilty tomorrow.” Atlas reminded him. 

“Guilty about what? I can’t bring him back, whether I do or don’t. I don’t expect he’s staring down at me from somewhere  _ trying  _ to make sure I only think of him ever. You...you don’t have to, but...I’m leaving the option there.” Leander told him. 

Atlas sighed quietly. He hated the idea. Not to mention,  _ he’d  _ no doubt be furious about him taking advantage of his previous investment. Then again, if he didn’t at least get him where he needed to be, he had already threatened to take over and he would absolutely indulge. That wasn’t a problem, but he wasn’t exactly known for being gentle…was it right to do? He was  _ asking _ . Surely he didn’t know he could deliver exactly what he asked for, but that question of morality sat uncertainly in his gut, at odds with his own feelings, and with the compulsive need to devour him from the inside out. 

No. Not yet. No need to think that far ahead. Maybe he’d be content to stop at just kissing, maybe he’d doze off and take away the need to consider it seriously. Sighing again, he reached for his hand, leading him back to the couch. Gesturing to it, Leander took a seat, eyes wide with surprise when he moved him to stretch out. Maneuvering between his legs, he stared down at him. 

Unlike him, aside from his mask, he had remained fully dressed, distracted by his sudden kiss. His hands immediately came to rest against his back, gentle and warm. Hard to believe really, considering. There was nothing he could personally do to make it different for him. Nothing he could do to change the path he was set on, but that would be something for him to decide what that meant later on. 

A part of him wondered if telling him the truth would make a difference, but it wouldn’t. It would see him hurt and taken off the task, and replaced with someone less focused on his safety as much as could be at least. 

“Atlas…” he said finally. 

“What is it?” He wondered. 

“Kiss me again…” he requested, vulnerability wrapped in words betraying the question. 

He leaned down, fingers pressed to the back of his neck, teeth scraping his lip slowly before diving in. Leander’s hands lightened briefly trailing upward just between his shoulders. His skin was warm, pleasant even through his clothes. There was a chill in the air that he couldn’t often do much about, but like this, he couldn’t feel it. 

Why did it have to be him? The job would have been easier if he had been just slightly less likable. If he’d have been gruff, mistrusting. If he hadn’t looked at him that way, hadn’t kissed him like he needed him. Maybe there was some unfortunate salvation in knowing there wasn’t likely to be much time to consider it if they tracked down  _ that _ monster in particular. Getting at least one wicked person out of the way might be enough to distract him. 

Atlas hated to think what this place would do to him. If not the place, the people. Himself included. He had to consider it more. Maybe it would soften the blow with a little with a brief intrusion of some twisted kind of happiness? Who could say for sure…

“Tell ya what boyo...get some rest. We’ll revisit the idea together once ya sober up…” he told him when he pulled away. 

“I…” he stopped short of trying to convince him otherwise, nodding slowly. “I understand.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Undecided but might put in a little smut to break up the action.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I said smut and I believe I delivered.

Atlas adjusted his gas mask. Didn’t really need it here, but just in case the wrong eyes were watching, it was best no one got a good look at his face. He expected fully that Leander, still peacefully sleeping, might likely change his mind sobered up and after a cup or two of coffee to make sure he was wide awake and thinking clearly. That said, a little forethought wouldn’t hurt. Doc Sun muttered to himself as he nudge the tube and what few stimpaks he had in stock across the counter, dropping the caps in a register. Doc Crocker was friendlier but Sun was still relatively sane. Crocker had lost every bit of his sanity ages ago. 

Retreating back to his home, he quietly slid the lock in place. He tossed his mask aside, putting on some coffee and heating up the contents of two cans of cram. He had a pack set next to his supplies, carefully packing what he deemed might be essential, a change or two of clothes, radaway, rad-x, a few cans of purified water and some non-perishables. Jack wandered out in his boxers, rubbing at the sleep in the corner of his eyes. 

Seemed like he was lured by the smells of breakfast, or, as much a breakfast as one could provide in the wasteland. He paused, seeming to recall he wasn’t exactly in his own place, eyes drawn to the stims and the familiar tube laying on the table. His face flushed brightly, briefly meeting eyes with him. The memory of his request hit him like a freight train. 

Atlas chuckled quietly. “Get you a cup here in a moment. Got some plates too, let me finish this and I’ll take care of you.” 

Leander looked off to the wall, a painting of a lighthouse hung up. He didn’t care much about its existence one way or the other, but it was a way to distract himself from just how that simple statement coursed through his stomach in the wrong way. 

“Don’t rush on my account.” He mumbled. 

Atlas set his pack to the side, busying himself pouring coffee, setting out plates and silverware that was slightly bent but otherwise the best he’d seen since he left the vault. Leander sat down quietly, thanking him before digging in. The more he thought about it, the more he still hadn’t changed his mind. Sure, there was a  _ pang _ of guilt, a slight one. It surprised him how honest he chose to be. He was never one to want to seem weak or vulnerable but when life didn’t demand he remain strong and rigid, all he wanted to do was lay that burden down, not have to think too much. Maybe the idea of someone like Atlas taking control was a bit of a rush that he didn’t quite want to admit out of nowhere a second time. 

Taking a sip of coffee, he reached over to the counter, grabbing a cigarette. Lighting it quietly, he took a long drag, exhaling a cloud of smoke with a quiet hum. 

“So...last night.” He began. Leander licked his lips thoughtfully, briefly meeting his gaze before turning his focus to the last few bites. “Have you given it much thought?” 

“Mm.” He agreed wordlessly. 

“What di’ya come up with?” He asked curiously.

Leander took a sip of his coffee, more an excuse to take an extra second to decide how to word it. 

“I...haven’t changed my mind, if that’s what you’re askin’” he confessed. 

“And...what you said. That’s...really something you want? Is that a new fascination or…?” Atlas asked. 

He’d had some time to consider it himself. Really, he supposed if he  _ really _ wanted no say in the matter, he’d give him what he wanted. Better him than the alternative. Or maybe not. He briefly considered that maybe he could be into such treatment. He could test a few things, but nothing so extreme. 

“I...could never ask such things of Gerard. It was g— fine. He was… I didn’t want to ask things from him I thought he wouldn’t be comfortable with. I hadn’t meant to ask you, but...well, in vino veritas, I guess…” Leander admitted quietly. 

Atlas rounded the table, ostensibly to put the dishes in the sink. He did, but he intentionally passed behind him on the way back, leaned against his chair, his breath warm and soft against the back of his neck. He quickly undid his ponytail, fingers slowly sweeping up into his hair. His teeth scraped his earlobe, earning a soft moan, louder when he pulled his hair, his head falling back. His throat exposed completely to him, lips and teeth biting and sucking a red path down his throat. 

“Tell me...do you like that, can you handle more boyo?” Atlas breathed against his skin. 

That nickname was growing on him. Anyone else, and he might have hated it, but when he said it, it felt like it fit. Framed by the warm lilting accent, he was getting a touch too comfortable hearing it. 

“Yes…” he breathed. 

His hand gripped his jaw, turning him into his kiss, tongue sliding roughly past his lips. He groaned into his mouth, trying to match the rhythm of his tongue, aware he was currently straining out of his boxers already. 

“Yes what?” He asked when he took a moment to sneak a breath. 

The thought of the ways he could finish that was strangely exciting. His mind mentally twisted the words into place, flicking through until he landed on what he thought he was waiting for. 

“Yes please…” he pleaded softly. 

He let go of him, blindly reaching for the tube still in the middle of the table, pressing it into his palm. 

“Well then boyo…” he whispered. “ _ Would you kindly _ get your lovely ass in bed and show me how badly you want ol’ Atlas…” 

Leander stared for a moment, like he was lost in thought. Grabbing the tube, he crossed the room, shedding his boxers before he slipped into the relative comfort of his bed. Atlas stood, following him. He initially followed the way he coated his fingers, deposited between his legs, watched the way he roughly penetrated himself, impaled and spread eagerly. His focus changed to his face, eyes just barely open, head back against the pillows, lips parted. He rocked against himself briefly before wedging a third finger in with an almost pained groan. He made the attempt to spread them once more, hissing painfully. Atlas grabbed the lube, hardly any work to be done, already mostly hard, a few quick jerks more than enough to bring him the rest of the way. 

He wasn’t one to rush, spread over him, between his legs, certainly. He pressed up against him, but left it at that, content to continue exploring him. He kissed and bit from ear to ear, across his throat, appreciative of the yelp he earned when he nipped his collarbone. He rolled his nipples briefly, continuing when his breath hitched. Was it being frozen or was he just this eager for the sort of treatment he couldn’t recall getting? Was it those words? Had they somehow incited him to be more sensitive, more receptive to him? Fuck, but he was delicious, an instrument in his masterful hands, producing the sort of siren song he jealously kept for himself. 

Yeah, he’d get a lecture for it most likely. Impolite to break in someone else’s things, but if he was the one guiding him, it was the least he deserved. Leander whined softly, hand wandering down until Atlas noticed. A single fragment of what he could expect from  _ him _ was the least courtesy he could extend. He grabbed his wrists, pinned firmly under one of his above his head. 

“Oh no, I don’t think so  _ boyo _ . You didn’t ask permission. I should punish you, but you’re already too gone aren’t ya? Want me rearranging your pretty insides...I wonder… would you kindly beg me? Real nice if you don’t mind…” he growled. 

Leander licked his lips, eyes squeezed shut briefly. Good, he wasn’t fond of  _ that _ look. He forced himself to stare up at him, if he expected his plea to be underwhelming, he was dead wrong. 

“Atlas  _ please _ , I  _ need _ you inside me, god, please...fuck me until I can’t walk straight, until I can’t think of anything but you!” He whimpered pitifully.

There was a sort of heady thrill to such a physically powerful man making such a noise, and for him nonetheless. A bolt of pure lust straight to his cock. 

“Think you’ve earned it…” he relented. 

He held his legs apart, slicked shaft struggling just a bit on entry, an obscene and wet sound piercing the air when the head popped in, a few quick, well aimed jabs burying him completely, squeezed firmly, almost enough to finish him had he not stilled for a moment, catching his breath, calm and cool enough to reset that urgency. He had no delusions about lasting forever, not even as long as he’d have liked. Much as he would have preferred to claim otherwise, it had been a long time without so much as the time to rub one out, he was going to get off sooner rather than later regardless, but Leander was right there too. Bet he’d blow without any direct stimulation if he did this just right, but there was something special about the feverish desperation he imagined he’d give himself. 

Opting to go with that, he held nothing back, snapping roughly against him, his pattern long, slow, hard thrusts before switching to shallow, fast jabs that had him crying his name out like a fuckin’ prayer. The bed groans and creaked, slamming against the wooden panels he had fixed to the metal. Quieter on the whole, save right now. 

Leander lifted his hips, wrapping them loosely around his waist like wordless begging for more. Atlas indulged. Hand clutching his throat loosely. Not enough to choke him out, enough to slow his airflow only. He raised his hips, shuddering and writhing, the sight the last push he needed, coating his insides, twitching and groaning until well after the last had spilled. 

Letting go of his hands, he maintained his loose hold. “Cum for me. Be a good lad now…” 

Leander’s shaking hand moved to curl around his shaft, squeezing once, finding just the right sort of pressure, a few thrusts up into his own hand was all he needed, managing to spatter his palm, stomach, Atlas’ stomach and his thigh, more pent up than he thought. 

“Not bad...you surprised me a bit lad. Real tiger, aren’t you?” Atlas praised with a husky chuckle. 

“A lion…” he laughed weakly. “Leander, it means lion man.” 

“Well, you ain’t  _ lion _ about that.” He teased. 

Leander groaned at the pun. 

Atlas looked him over quietly. “Lea good with you?” 

He gave it a thought. “I hate it.” He admitted. “But...it sounds better when you say it. I like it fine…” 

“Save some water then? Shower together? I’ll try’n keep me hands off you.” Atlas suggested. 

“ _ Oh, I hope you don’t.” _ Leander growled, “need a moment.” 


	9. Chapter 9

Leander pulled on a dark tank top, adjusting his jeans. Atlas had been kind enough to set out fresh clothes. There was a knock at the door, Atlas looking at it curiously. He stared out the hole suspiciously before he opened the door. 

“Come in, Valentine.” He said. “I’ll be in the shower if you need anything, Lea.” 

He watched him leave, standing tall, trying not to look anything but strong and unbothered when he got a look at him. Piper vouched for him, but she never said he wasn’t human. No mistake, the wiry nature of one hand, visible seam around the face. His glowing eyes and gaping holes in his face where the metal workings beneath were visible. He must have been staring. 

“Never seen an older gen synth?” He asked. “Gen 3s are indistinguishable from humans, oldest are anything but, little more than machinery. I’m something of a middle step.” 

“Piper said you could help me figure out how to get in the institute?” Leander asked. 

“Wish I could say it was as easy as tellin’ ya where the ol’ factory is, but I don’t have direct information on it. They wiped it out.” He nodded to the pip-boy on his wrist. “But I’ve been told you had somethin’ unusual happen before you left the vault. Thinks she might know who to point you at, but I need to hear that for myself. What happened in the vault?”

Leander’s brows immediately lowered, expression somewhere between agony and fury. He couldn’t look at Nick just then. 

“My husband. I thawed out just enough to see him. This man, a bald man came in with some people in suits. Opened his chamber, they struggled, he was shot, and closed back up, they put me back on ice just after, but I’d remember that face.” He growled. 

The sound of crinkling paper distracted him, Nick turning it toward him. 

“This the man you saw?” He asked. 

Leander immediately snatched it from him, staring.

“That’s the bastard.” 

“Well. Kellogg…” Nick sighed. “Good and bad news, kid. Good news is he’s got a house here. Might be something you can find to track him down. Bad news is...he uh...split. Not too long ago. Left overnight from the last time he was seen.” 

Nick rummaged in his pocket, holding a key out to him. “Got that from Geneva a few days ago, asked me to go clean it out, but I hadn’t managed to get over there.” He paused, entering something into his pip-boy. “Whatever happens, this is my frequency. Let me know. If you find something you don’t understand or run into trouble, maybe I can help.” 

Leander waved to him distractedly when he left, turning the key back and forth in his palm. He looked back towards the shower, locking the door. He had originally intended to head over, check it out immediately, but somehow, the thought of leaving without Atlas seemed wrong. Maybe it was just practical, he seemed to know a great deal, had plenty of time to know more than he did at least. Or perhaps because he already agreed to put himself in harm’s way to help him. Either way, he wasn’t going anywhere alone. 

Atlas glanced over his shoulder for just a moment when he came out of the bathroom, dressed in a crisp undershirt, buttoned almost all the way, save for the top three buttons, dark slacks and suspenders suited his dark hair. Leander was briefly distracted by his neck, the barest glimpse of his chest. 

“You leavin’ me boyo?” He teased, nodding to the key. 

“Valentine gave it to me. Belonged to a man named Kellogg. He sounds like...like he might be the one who killed Gerard.” He said seriously. “I understand if you don’t want to, but...come with me. You’re all I’ve got out there, I need you with me.” 

Atlas squeezed his shoulder firmly. “I’ll go with you then. Just gotta grab the supplies.” Retrieving his bag, he slung it over his shoulder, heading for the door. “Think I know which house it is. Only one that’s been vacant in a long time.” 

Jack followed him, not entirely focusing on the paths he took, only barely registering the need to stop when his back grew closer. He gestured to the door, and as if it were his own home, he slid the key in, giving it a wide turn. He pushed it open with hardly any real effort, somehow expecting he’d still have to force it open. 

He walked the house slowly, examining packs of cigarettes, butts left in scattered ashtrays. There were bottles of beer in varying states of emptiness from unopened, to mostly gone, and drained. There were shelves of things he could still use, loading them into an empty pack. 

Leander messed with his pip-boy, thinking he recalled how Nick input his information. 

“Nick.” He said. 

“What’s goin’ on? Kellogg’s house have any clues?” he asked. 

Leander was about to tell him they’d hit a dead end when he noticed a scrap of something hiding under a chair. 

“Maybe. Where is Fort Hagen?” He asked. 

Not even handwritten, just a torn section of what probably was once a map, or maybe an old flyer. He wasn’t from here, these places were unfamiliar to him as it was. 

“I’ve uploaded the coordinates and sent them over. Should be a marker on your map.” Nick said. 

Leander fidgeted with the buttons, eventually summoning up a map, a bright dot marking the spot. Quite a long walk. Definitely a few days. Hopefully there were places intact enough to rest for a few hours, the idea of having to try to sleep in the open had him willing to push past any possible tiredness rather than risk himself or Atlas to a fraction of the things he had seen. 

“I’ll let you know if I find anything there…” he said. 

He switched back to the map, turning the dials until there was silence. 

“I’m not sure what Kellogg has to do with the institute but Nick wouldn’t have pointed me to him if there wasn’t a connection. Hate to drag you into my problems, but it might help. Hopefully he’s in a talking mood.” 

He ground his fist into his palm, nose wrinkled in a way that made him look almost like  _ him _ . That was definitely the “I  _ dare _ you to fuck with me” look he’d thankfully never been on the receiving end of. Atlas kept his silence. Nothing he could do to change his mood for the moment, talking would do more harm than good, but with time and silence, he’d calm down sooner rather than later. 

Jack followed a little arrow, first back to the gates of Diamond City, then turning down the road. In truth, he hadn’t thought much about that man, but presented with a lead towards finding him in the search for the means to find the institute? There was no way he couldn’t convince himself to do anything  _ but _ follow that blinking marker. 

“If I can find a safe place after it gets dark, we’ll stop for the night. Is that alright?” Leander asked flatly, 

“Sounds good.” Atlas agreed. 

He kept it short, he was in no mood for idle chatter, or extra words, that much was pretty obviously marked on his face. Looking up, there was a bird following not too far behind, high enough to not stand out, but low enough that it was immediately obvious they were being watched. 

Question was, whose was this? Not his, he set his to a sort of rest mode, currently inactive. The old man had plenty, and would absolutely send one if it made his spying less obvious. Otherwise, it was almost surely the other one. Belonging to a man who used to be more of a boogeyman to the commonwealth than even the institute. Supposed to be dead, but that wasn’t something he figured anyone could actually pull off. 

Leander stopped just long enough to watch his footing when the tiny arrow sent him off the obvious path. He held out his hand, helping Atlas down though he was sure he didn’t actually need the help. Couldn’t have made it more than a few miles from Diamond City, no more than about seven before the sun began to fall. There was some sort of empty tool shed. No space for luxury, but a lock on the door and intact windows that said nothing had really bothered to disturb it. 

Atlas busied himself lugging a small mattress flat in front of the door. Wasn’t much for space, but a decently useful bed, some ratty bedding and a makeshift curtain made of torn up garments wrapped around bent metal poles, fitting nicely in a bracket above the windows. Leander locked the door, facing it when he went to lay down like he’d be ready easiest if something actually happened. 

Atlas fell in behind him, back to his just in case. Falling into bed with someone was a far cry from sleeping in the same bed, and he didn’t feel like pushing this issue. Built more trust this way anyhow. 


	10. Chapter 10

Leander sighed when the end of the second night had fallen. This time the shelter they had found was much more sizable at least. A decently large bed, cooking area that more or less still worked, bathroom looked okay, water was lukewarm, but that was still better than freezing cold. 

Looking at the map, he sighed. So close, but still a decent enough walk to make it a bad idea. Dangerous enough place without picking a fight with something in the dark. That was fine when the enemy was human, you knew they had just as hard a time seeing in the dark as you did. Now? Who really knew if a deathclaw could see in the dark? He wasn’t about to find out the hard way. 

At least he had time for this drive for revenge to cool off a bit. Not fair to throw it in Atlas, not really. He hung his head, trying to decide if he should go straight into an apology or if it would pay off more in a roundabout sort of way. He decided Atlas might prefer direct. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so...I was an ass, I didn’t mean to make it seem like I was maybe upset with you?” He had no idea what words were, apparently. 

“You did nothin’ wrong , boyo. Man does that to your husband it’s only right t’put a bullet in ‘em. That’s how I see it anyway. I wasn’t worried, but thank you.” Atlas assured him. “Should reach Fort Hagen tomorrow, right?” 

Leander nodded. “If this map is accurate, yes. Just hope this bastard’s as rotten as I picture, won’t feel so wicked if he is.” 

“He is.” Atlas frowned at that, trying to add to it quickly but naturally. “From the stories, anyway, Institute uses him to kill defectors, those who yell too loudly and anyone else they see as a threat. Little more than a mutt they release to be intimidatin’” 

Staring at the map again, he lent it some thought. “So if I take him down, I’d be doing everyone a favor, not just myself?” 

“Oh I imagine so.” Atlas agreed. 

_ Bastard outlived his usefulness a long time ago, but the old man couldn’t resist just keeping him around, like a damn trophy. “I tamed a killer, he’s nothing to fear, unless you cross me, then I’ll send him after you!” Just another threat to seem real big an’ mighty. _

He stood up, drawing his attention completely when he heard pots and pans banging around. He came to investigate in time to find Lea inspecting a halfway decent pan, dumping in some meat that still seemed good, Brahmin looked like. 

“I figured I’d take care of you today. You’ve already done so much for me, I…” he fell silent for a few moments, opting to change the subject. “Shower won’t keep heat too long. Up to you if you want to share or not. I can wait for it to hear back up, no problem.” 

“Nonsense, I won’t hear a word of it. Together is fine” Atlas disagreed. Making him wait for barely warm water sounded like torture but without a payoff. He wandered out to see how it was looking, refraining from chuckling when he got a look at his face. “You don’t know how to cook if it’s not from a can, do you?” 

Leander licked his lips slowly, frowning. “Not really. Most of what I ate was out of cans, actually. I...have no idea what I’m doing, but it doesn’t smell  _ bad _ , so I thought maybe I was on to something…” 

“Do you want me to take over boyo?” He asked. 

He immediately stepped out of the way, utter gratitude in his tone. “ _ Yes please, thank you!” _

Atlas gave him a wink that had him quickly looking away in an attempt to hide the faint blush rising to his cheeks. 

“It works out. You’re good around the guns, get you up to snuff on some more plasmids and you're the guy I want watchin’ my back. I need you an’ looks like you need me too.” He said, a faint hint of amusement to his tone. “Lookin’ a lot better too, not so angry.” 

Leander’s eyes widened just a touch at that. He wasn’t wrong, but why? He wasn’t usually one to let his guard down this much, didn’t make friends easily, and it was just so easy and enjoyable to be around him that even though he should be hunting down Conrad Kellogg in the most brutal way he could imagine, it was just a step below a damned a joy ride the way he was acting. “Huh...you’re right. That’s...I don’t know why.” 

“This sort of home experience, maybe just me but it’s nice. Like you can forget it’s like that outside. Maybe that’s why. Lettin’ your guard down because it feels familiar?” Atlas suggested. 

“You’re probably right.” Lea sighed to himself. Hard not to wonder if maybe he was just trying to replace the emptiness with something familiar. Thinking about that, he realized even Gerard was starting to get a little fuzzy, not just the smaller details. “I’ll go look around. See if maybe there’s anything worth salvaging. Maybe find some decent clothes to change into.” 

“I’ll call you in a wee bit when this is done.” He said, glancing over his shoulder. 

Nodding slowly he started by the door and swept to the back half of the small single level house, checking anywhere he might find useful things. Opening drawers, he managed to find a threadbare towel and some halfway decent clothes that would certainly fit him, maybe struggling over Atlas’s broad shoulders, but otherwise about right. He pocketed bits and pieces of broken things, even finding a half a pack of cigs, a functional lighter, and an untouched stim. Leander managed to open a jammed cupboard, retrieving a small stash of caps and some ammo he could definitely use before Atlas called for him. 

When he came back out, he set it on the table both to give Atlas a chance to see what he found, pick with of the outfits he wanted and the like. Whatever was left, he quietly and efficiently packed up in his pack, slinging it over a chair before he sat down to eat. Thanking him, he took a bite, really giving it some solid thought before he gave a slow nod. 

“I’m very glad you cooked.” He admitted. “Not much of a thank you, so much as attempted murder when I’m in the kitchen, I guess.” 

“You exaggerate, but I’ll take a compliment from you.” He said. 

Leander paused between bites, seemingly about to say something, but reconsidering it. Taking a slow breath, he sighed. 

“Let me...let me put Gerard to rest tomorrow. When I finish, you have my word that I’ll follow you to hell if you ask.” He said. “If the Institute is what you want, it’s what you’re going to get.” 


	11. Chapter 11

“There’s no guarantee he’ll give you any answers, you don’t have to go in if you aren’t ready lad.” Atlas warned. 

That was almost an hour ago. Almost a solid, agitated hour of Leander shooting down synths, trying to hack into protectrons and computers, trying to forge deeper in. Mostly silent save the frustrated curses now thickening his normally mild accent with frustration. 

“If the man wasn’t such a bleedin’  _ coward,  _ hiding behind his  _ machines, this would be a breeze. _ ” He groused. 

“They say ol’ Conrad ain’t no walk in the park boyo. You underestimate him, an’ he might still come out on top. Be careful, all I’m sayin’. Come to fancy your company an’ all.” Atlas told him. 

Leander looked like he meant to say something, catching a glimpse of movement at the edge of his vision. He ducked behind a pile of debris, popping up to shoot down a synth coming their way. 

Heading further in, he was greeted by a voice. 

“You know. Been watching you destroy my defenses for a while now. I kept asking myself who you were. What could you want. Pretty clear you’re here looking for me or you’d have given up by now if all you wanted was loot.” He said. 

“Ahh, I take it  _ you’re  _ Kellogg.” He said. 

Honestly, he didn’t even know if he could hear him or not. Even if he couldn’t, it felt good to have a voice to a name and face. One step closer. 

“See you look so familiar, so I’ve been trying to place it. Then I realized. That pip-boy on your wrist, that face. I remember you. The popsicle from 111 that thawed by accident. Thought after you were put back on ice I wouldn’t have to think about you again. Hell, the rest malfunctioned. All your neighbors and people you probably saw daily just snuffed out like that. Hard to believe you remembered  _ me _ .” Kellogg spoke. 

Rounding a corner, he could hear another synth, this one more vocal than most. 

“Kellogg has ordered your termination.” It said, seemingly searching for him. “Fort Hagen is under Institute authority, Terminating intruder.” 

Leander crept up slowly behind it when he saw, point blank shot dropping it with ease. 

“The Institute...well. In the right place after all. Bastard better have some answers for me…” he said, equally to himself and to Atlas. 

Pausing when something caught his eye, Atlas nodded to it.

“Grab that, looks like it’s Incinerate. Might come in handy if you decide to cook him, I suppose. Don’t forget these turrets and the walking buckets of bolts are easy to stun and sometimes kill with a good ol’ shock.” He reminded him. 

Leander made a face, surprised when it didn’t hurt as much as before. Felt sort of warm in his blood. Kind of nice actually. He’d have taken a bit to appreciate it if he wasn’t out for answers and blood in equal measure. Pausing to shock a few turrets and shoot them, he carried on. 

“You know. I realize I’m not going to be able to stop you with synths and turrets. You’re  _ determined _ . Fuck if I know why. Might as well have a little chat. I’ll get the synths to stand down and unlock the doors. Come in guns blazing if you want, but I bet you want answers and I happen to have a question or two myself.” Kellogg said. 

Leander thought it over, setting his gun back at his side. He could be civil and diplomatic. At least until he got his answers. 

Atlas followed behind him, making a face when he noticed they were still at least half surrounded by synths. At least they didn’t make a move. 

“Well now, you found me kid. What do you want from me?” He asked.

“I  _ saw _ you. Watched you kill my husband. Why did you do it? What could you possibly have wanted from him?” Leander asked. 

“Don’t know that that’s the name was registered under, but if you just know, I was there for gene samples. Institute wanted then from that  _ specific  _ pod. You were thawed out in case we couldn’t get a useable one. Last resort specifically.” Kellogg said. He looked at something curiously. He raised a brow. “Wasn’t no Gerard. In fact, says here that was registered to a man by the name of Nate.

“No...no. Look again. Gerard was in that pod. I saw him, he was there!” Leander argued. 

Kellogg looked again, shaking his head. Holding it up so he could see for himself, he saw most of his neighbors, where Gerard should have been, where he recalled him being, he could look at the picture and recognize it definitely wasn’t him, and registered to a man indeed named Nate. 

“That can’t be right…” He mumbled. 

There was a flash of something so brief he wasn’t even sure of what it was, the scent of disinfectant, white walls clean and bright.

“Look. There were other pods in a different room. He mighta been in there, but even if he was, yours was the only one someone walked out of alive. The rest malfunctioned except for this guy. I fully admit I shot him.” Kellogg said. 

Unwilling to be distracted any further, he switched the subject. “I heard your synths say this place was under Institute control, so how about you tell me how I get there?” 

“Wish I could, kid. You think  _ I  _ know how it’s done? I don’t just come and go as I please. No one save the Coursers come and go. If you’ve got any other questions, I suggest you ask now. Got a good one for you. Why don’t you —“ his words were cut off. 

In a matter of moments, there was a bright flash, a loud bang, and then his head was split wide open, blood and bits of brain everywhere. Leander wiped his face in disgust. 

“What the hell was that for?!” He asked. 

“Man was a bloody liar. Just tryin’ to get in your head lad. I didn’t want him to psych you out.” Atlas said. 

He stared at him for a few moments before reluctantly letting it go. No sense in fighting with the one person he could really count on out here. Something odd caught his eye. Bending, he picked it up. It looked like a bit of hardware wired into his brain. Odd… maybe Valentine could tell him more if he was able to show him. Frowning, he grabbed a piece of news paper off the floor, wrapping it up carefully before putting it away. 

“Let’s get out of here. I’m sick of this place and I’ve got nothing but a headache and more questions.” He sighed. Shaking his head, he added. “Thank you...I may not have gotten the answer I wanted, but I haven’t forgotten my promise. I’m all yours to use as you need. Not sure where to go from here, but  _ someone _ knows  _ something _ , and I  _ will  _ get you into the Institute. Whoever is in charge had better have better answers.” 

Atlas put a hand on his back and he didn’t pull away. He guided him to a closer exit, about to suggest he take a few days to rest, when he pushed him against the wall. Raw. He was one giant open wound right now. Vulnerable. Looking forward something familiar… 

Atlas turned with him, hand in his hair, ponytail weaved between his fingers. He yanked hard, earning a loud gasp. He bit his lip hard, barely concerned when he drew blood. Leander ran his hands under his shirt, kneading his back. Atlas took advantage of his opened mouth, tongue invading without warning. The sharp tang of blood lingered between them, but neither seemed terribly bothered by it. Atlas broke the kiss when he had left him breathless. 

“Leave it there for now boyo. You still feel it when we get back, I’ll fuck you into next week if you want. But not here. Ain’t the time or the place, and you ain’t in the right state for it.” Atlas said. 

Oh, it wasn’t that he didn’t want to, he definitely did. Just that he was meant to be the more responsible one. Wasn’t responsible to jump a grieving man just because he thought he wanted it. Probably did, but that wasn’t really the point. Point was they were one step closer now, and that meant one step closer to what was likely the end of their time together. 

“Won’t change a thing, but I’ll wait. Rather get cleaned up first anyway.” Leander conceded. 

Admittedly, ‘the blood and brains of my enemy’ wasn’t a good smell, a worse look and perhaps not the sexiest thing he could have been wearing. He had a point. 


End file.
